Where He Can Not Follow
by ladyofbree
Summary: Frodo finds himself within the tower of Cirith Ungol, with naught but the fear within his heart and the bloodstained tears upon his face.


Where He Can Not Follow  
  
The foul stench of Mordor choked the air as Frodo gasped, his eyes opening large as he clutched his hand to his chest, his heart racing within. Walls of cold stone surrounded him, while the dim light of a fading torch warmed his naked flesh. How many days had passed since first waking in this dank cage he did not know, nor could he tell whether it now be night or day. Time had no meaning in this prison, only pain and anguish filled his weary heart. Frodo's eyes blurred with tears as he moved towards a heap of tattered rags. He pulled the rags between his dry, rough fingers, shadowed with traces of his long dried blood, as he shielded himself from the crack of yet another whip. Their lingering scent was familiar. the deep fragrance of the Shire still seemed to hold far within their thinning threads. Frodo closed his eyes drawing himself further into the rags as the pain from the many open lashes spread across his back, burned him once more. What he would not give to see the face of his dear Samwise. to feel his hand touch his aching brow. He then began to wonder if he lived. Did his body lay alone, plundered by the orcs of Mordor never to be found again? Or perhaps he too suffered the same fate of his master, being held betweens damp walls of cold stone, under the constant hand of a flailing whip. The thought tore into the depths of his heart and he clutched his arms tightly round his chest welcoming the feel of his own touch against his bruised skin. Footsteps then echoed through his ears and he began to tremble in fear of what may come his way. Another lash of the whip or a beating with grotesque clawed hands? He closed his eyes tightly, pressing tears down his bloodstained cheeks. His hair hung with dampness over his face as the footsteps tallied on coming to a halt, then making not another sound. A hiss then rang out followed by a snarling cry as the clash of two swords struck together. Another strike and a ring of steel, together with a growl and triumphal roar of an orc, then all fell silent. Frodo felt as though his heart would leap from his chest as it raced with a fury unknown. Another fight perhaps, amongst the orcs, for what he heard one describe as 'the hobbit's pretty coat'. He could not bear another moment within the darkness, behind the only comfort he could find, when he shut out the world around him with closed eyes. He thought of the Shire, of Bilbo, the elves in Rivendell and of his Sam. Dear sweet Sam. He had come so far with him, and what for? To be left alone in the darkness of Mordor, stripped of all his youthful innocence. to be burdened with the weight of the ring which his master bore. Frodo reached his hand to his neck. The ring, it was gone. The orcs had taken everything. everything but the thread of life he still hung onto. the small strand that only kept hold, with the undying hope of being let free seeing Samwise once more. Frodo's tears grew loud, his voice quivering as he pressed his hand to his dry cracked lips. He could see the face of his dear friend now. A smile on his face as he tended to the gardens below the windows of Bag End, long before the journey ever came to hand. Then it seemed as though he could hear Sam's voice through the darkness, piercing it with the light of song, deep within the vile heart of this malignant land. Frodo cried aloud his eyes opening, blurred with his salty tears as he began to sing, calling out to the voice within his dreams. Calling to the memory of a friend lost in the mountains below. His words were faint, a whisper to most ears, yet they rung out overshadowing the sound of coming footsteps as a door closed with a creak. A voice then snarled as a hearty fist was slapped upon a wooden door, from the hand of an orc, keeping watch in the tower hall below.  
  
"You up there!" The orc snapped in anger. "Stop your squeaking, or you shall feel the sting of my whip if I have to come deal with you. You hear, you little rat?"  
  
Frodo fell into silence, his heart pounding in fear. He drew his knees close to his body clutching them tightly as he closed his eyes trying to hold back his tears. More words were yelled out and Frodo heard a loud thud as a ladder was thrust up to the floor he lay upon, close to an opening near the center of the room that was covered with a rusty metal and wooden door. He pulled himself closer to the wall cowering over the heap of filthy rags as he heard the bolt being drawn back, followed by the ridged deep breaths of the orc who bore the leather whip that had tore into his skin my times before.  
  
"Keep quiet you!" He hissed. "You have not long to live in peace, but you shall pay! Keep your trap shut! See, here is a reminder for you!"  
  
Frodo tensed as the sound of the whip cracked over him, tearing deep into his flesh leaving a crimson red whip-weal along his side. His voice cried out with pain as he flung his arm up, shielding his head. He waited for a moment for the second blow to strike but a yell came, loud as a thunderous roar. A quick struggle was heard and then a shrill cry, a thud, then nothing but sheer silence. Frodo did not dare look away not knowing what had come to pass, but then he felt two warm hands come around him as he was drawn away from his rags. He then heard his name called out on a familiar voice and he opened his eyes, looking into the face of his dear friend as he hugged Frodo to his breast blinded by his own tears.  
  
"Frodo! Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried clutching his master tightly within his embrace half lifting him from the cold floor. "It's Sam, I've come!"  
  
"Sam?" Frodo muttered. "Is it really you? Am I still dreaming?"  
  
"No, you're not dreaming. not dreaming at all, Master." Sam replied. "I'm real. It's me. I've come."  
  
"My heart can not believe it." Frodo said gathering all his strength and will, clutching Sam with his trembling hands. "There was an orc, with a whip and then I open my eyes and here you stand. I was not dreaming after all when I heard your voice singing. I called out, did you hear me? Was it you I really heard?"  
  
"Aye." Sam whispered touching his hand to Frodo's brow. "It was. I had given up hope, almost. In my grief I found a song within my heart to light the way ahead. I did not think I would ever find you in the darkness."  
  
Frodo took in a deep breath and looked to Sam with tear filled eyes.  
  
"Well, you have now, Sam, my dear Sam. You've found me and pulled me from my hellish dreams." Frodo then lay back in Sam's arms, closing his eyes, like a child at rest when night fears are driven away by some loved voice or hand.  
  
Sam smiled, his heart weeping with joy. He wished he could sit, there with Frodo in his arms, lost within the endless happiness; but it was not allowed. He still had to find a way out. to save Frodo and himself from the cruel clutches of Mordor. He pressed his lips to Frodo's brow and gently took his fingers to his cheeks turning away the tears and filth that covered his master's face.  
  
"Come now, wake up, Mr. Frodo." He said rousing him from his peaceful slumber, trying to sound cheerful as though he were back in the Shire drawing back the curtains at Bag End. "We must press on. We mustn't linger any longer if we wish to leave this vile place.  
  
"But what place is this?" Frodo said with a sigh as he sat up. "Where are we? How did I come to be here? What time has passed?"  
  
"No time for long stories." Sam replied. "Not until we are somewhere else, Mr. Frodo. But if you really must know, you are in the top of that tower you and me saw from away, down near the tunnel before the orcs got hold of you. How long ago that was I do not know. More than a day I am guessing."  
  
"Only that?" Frodo said. "It seems weeks have passed. You must tell me all about it when you get a chance. It all seems dim somehow. Something hit me? Is that right Samwise? I fell into darkness lost in foul dreams, and woke only to find that waking was worse. They were all around me. Orcs, fingering their knives, gloating standing over me. they stripped me of everything, questioning me until I thought I should go mad." Frodo's eyes then grew large as if in fear of his memory and Sam drew him close again.  
  
"I shall never forget them." Frodo replied his voice a quiver. "Their eyes, their claws, the hiss of their putrid words and the crack of the whips."  
  
"And you won't." Sam said. "Not if you talk about them. If you don't want to see them again Mr. Frodo then it be best that we leave. The sooner we get going the better." Sam then stood to his feet and offered his hand to Frodo.  
  
"Can you walk Mr. Frodo sir?" Sam replied softly.  
  
"Yes Sam, I can walk." Frodo said getting up very slowly. "I am not hurt, only tired. Very tired, and there seems to be a pain here. A burning pain." Frodo said pointing to the back of his neck above his left shoulder. Frodo then stood up and Sam looked on, for his masters skin was scarlet, red with poison from Shelob's wicked sting. Frodo then began to pace the floor rubbing his hands together before him.  
  
"I didn't dare to move while I lay here. I was terrified." Frodo whispered. "They yelled and fought amongst themselves, quarreling over me and my things, I think. For some time it went on and then all went quiet. Deathly quiet, and then the fear in my heart grew more. But Sam, oh Sam!" Frodo cried out cowering down to the floor once more. "They have taken everything! Everything I had. Do you understand?" His own words then pierced through his heart, as he fell into despair having realized the fullness of the disaster and the bitter end that now lay before him and Sam. "The quest has failed. We have failed Sam. even if we do get out of here there is no escape from this land. Only elves can escape, away out of Middle Earth, far away as they sail over the misty seas."  
  
"Do not even think of passing on." Sam said kneeling next to his master. "Not all hope is lost, they have not taken everything. Here, look see. The quest has not failed, not yet." Frodo then turned to Sam and there hanging from round his neck rested a silver chain as Sam took it up into his hand letting the golden ring hang before him, turning about in the fading light of the lamp that hung above he and his master.  
  
"I took it from you Mr. Frodo, begging your pardon." Sam replied softly. "I've kept it safe, here around my neck and what a terrible burden it is too." Frodo then reached his hand out before him, his fingers trembling. It was at that moment when Sam felt reluctant to give up the ring and burden his master with it once again. Frodo's eyes then changed and quickly his tone grew harsh as he stood up and lashed out striking Sam with his hand.  
  
"Give it to me!" Frodo yelled. "Give it to me at once! You can not have it!"  
  
"Quite all right Mr. Frodo." Sam said his voice quivering as he trembled under the stare of his master, his skin burning with the pain of Frodo's strike. Startled he quickly passed the chain over his head holding it out to Frodo. "You are in the land of Mordor now and you will find the ring very hard to bear." Sam replied quietly, almost afraid to speak another word. "If it pleases you, I could share the burden with you."  
  
"No, you shall not!" Frodo cried snatching the ring and chain from Sam's hands. "You are nothing but a thief. A filthy little sneak!" He panted with a sudden rage, staring at Sam with eyes wide. Frodo stood tall and then suddenly, as he held the ring in one clenched fist a mist seemed to clear from his eyes. Frodo passed his hand over his brow seeing Samwise kneeling before him, his face filled with fear as he held his hand out to shield away another blow. This was not the vision he had just seen, this was not the snarling and rigid face of an orc, pawing and drooling over his precious treasure. Frodo's eyes welled with tears and he fell to his knees before Sam taking his hands into his own.  
  
"Oh Sam, what have I said? What have I done?" Frodo sobbed. "Forgive me, forgive me dear Sam. That was not me. I had almost forgot the malevolent trickery of that accursed ring. I am fine. fine now Sam. I must carry the burden all the way to the end, it can not be altered. You can not come between me and this doom." Frodo said as he drew the silver chain over his neck letting the cold band of gold fall against his bare chest.  
  
"I understand." Sam said faintly as he drew his shirt sleeve across his eyes. "But I can still help. I must get you out of here no matter what comes to pass." Sam replied standing to his feet. "Come now, here, take this, wrap it round you." Sam then unclasped his grey cloak and cast it around Frodo's shoulders. He then drew his pack from his shoulders and took from it Frodo's sword. Sam pulled it from its sheath and not a flicker was seen upon its blade.  
  
"They did not get everything." Sam said holding the sword aloft. "You lent me Sting if you remember, but I will need you to lend it to me a little longer Mr. Frodo. I must go now and see what I can find. You need some clothes and gear and some food too. You can not go walking 'bout in the Black Land in naught but your skin." Sam then placed his hand upon Frodo's shoulder as a faint smile began to shine on his face.  
  
"I am glad that I have found you Mr. Frodo. The path would have been lonely without you by my side."  
  
"And I am glad too." Frodo replied resting a firm hand on Sam's arm. "But go now. Find what you need. We must make haste, away from this foul prison." Frodo then watched as Sam made his way to the trap door slipping down the ladder, before he pulled it up and sat while dreadful fears chased about through his mind. Sam had been restored to him and so had the ring and the bitter quest. Deep within he wished the ring had never come to him, yet still within the farthest corner of his mind he knew he must continue onward meeting with the final end, standing at the very cracks of Mount Doom and cast the ring into its fire to draw the evil shadow from all the land. 


End file.
